My husband and I have developed a new ritual. After I brush my teeth, I sit on my walker in the bathroom, and he brushes my hair. I close my eyes as he strokes and pats and fluffs. I would happily sit there all day under his gentle ministrations...
Pollyanna Sounds the Alarm
People frequently ask my husband—and sometimes they ask me—if I am really as upbeat about my ALS as I appear to be in my posts. When I woke this morning I was asking myself that question too. The answer is yes. My posts express as honestly as I...
More Love, Please
When I was twenty-seven, living in New York City, and working in film, I was stricken one day by severe abdominal pain that eventually led me to pass out. My boyfriend called 911. The cops came to check things out and called an ambulance which...
I Have a Fatal Illness–Why Am I Not Despairing?
“I still believe that the unexamined life is not worth living: and I know that self-delusion, in the service of no matter what small or lofty cause, is a price no writer can afford. His subject is himself and the world and it requires every ounce...
When Hate Turns to Love–After the March
I am just back from the Women’s March in Washington DC, glowing, energized, and trying to evaluate why the occasion felt so unprecedented. When I was younger I participated in many demonstrations, some in Boston, some in New Haven, some in...